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‘She’s staying in the McBrides’ apartment this summer?’ he asked. It wouldn’t hurt to double check.
‘That’s right. Keeping an eye on the place. She’s a very quiet young lady,’ she said. ‘For a student.’
Maybe. Being quiet didn’t preclude dishonesty. The prize of newly developed Mallory software was enough to tempt the most innocent of souls. Or maybe she was doing it for some man.
She might blush like a nineteenth-century village maiden, but those eyes didn’t belong to a nice quiet girl.
‘She’s a student?’
‘According to Lady McBride’s daily.’
‘And she’s living there on her own?’
‘Yes. She wants some peace and quiet to work, apparently.’
‘I see. Well, let me know if you find the creature.’
‘Yes, Mr Mallory.’
He poured himself coffee, calling his secretary as he retreated to his bedroom.
‘Wendy,’ he said, as she picked up the phone. ‘I need you to organise some flowers.’
‘For the lovely Lilianne?’ she asked, hopefully.
‘No.’ She’d forfeited the flowers and the apology when she’d indulged herself with that cryptic note.
For that he’d make her sweat a bit before he called her again.
‘What happened?’ Wendy demanded, interrupting his train of thought.
‘What? Oh, nothing happened.’
‘Nothing? You left the party with the most beautiful woman in the room in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. What went wrong?’
‘Not a thing. I just had an idea, that’s all. I didn’t think it would take more than five minutes to check it out—’
‘And before you noticed, it was morning. You are the absolute limit, Richard.’
‘I’m a total loss as a human being,’ he agreed. ‘But my computer loves me.’
‘A computer won’t keep you warm in your old age.’
‘No, but it’ll pay the electricity company to do the job.’
‘You’ll end up a lonely old bachelor,’ she warned.
‘Read the gossip columns, Wendy,’ he said, rapidly growing bored with this conversation. ‘There are no lonely old millionaires. Bachelor or otherwise.’ Then, ‘The flowers are for my sister. It’s her wedding anniversary.’
‘I’ve already ordered some.’
‘Have you? When?’
‘The moment the invitation arrived. I offered to have a little bet with the girls in the office on the likelihood of you wriggling out of a long weekend of come-and-join-us marital bliss. Your sister, bless her, isn’t subtle. She wants you married and producing cousins for her own offspring while there’s a chance they’ll be in the same generation. But they all know you too well. I had no takers. Not even the new girl in the software lab.’
She was kidding. She had to be kidding…
‘Save the smug gloating for the ladies room, Wendy, and sort out a working lunch for the research and development team in the boardroom for one o’clock. I’ll be there in thirty minutes—’
‘I really think you should send Lilianne flowers too,’ she said, not in the least bothered by his Chairman of the Board act. ‘At the very least.’
Wendy had been with him since he’d started the company and had seen him through the bad times as well as the good. She thought it gave her the right to treat him like a rather bossy nanny. Occasionally, he allowed her to get away with it. But not today.
‘I really don’t have the time for this—’
‘Is the situation salvageable, do you think? What kind of statement do you want to make?’
Who did he think he was kidding? She always got away with it.
‘No statement of any kind.’ But, since he recognised a brick wall when he saw one, and he’d meant it when he had said he hadn’t got time for petty details, he went on, ‘Okay, I’ll concede on the flowers.’ And honesty compelled him to admit that Lilianne had had a point. She did deserve an apology. ‘But they are not to be red roses. Not roses of any hue.’
‘Terribly vulgar, red roses,’ she agreed. ‘And, besides, you’re right. It would be unkind to raise any serious expectations in the lady’s breast. She is, after all, just another passing fancy.’
‘And what the devil is that supposed to mean?’
‘Only that she’s out of the same mould as every girl you’ve ever dated. Only the names—and hair colour—change.’ About to protest, he realised it would be quicker to just let her get on with it. ‘But you’re like all men; you see the pretty wrapping and you’re hooked. Temporarily. Of course, the clever women realise very quickly that they’re always going to be playing second fiddle to your computer and throw you back—’
Okay, that was it. ‘Is this conversation going somewhere?’
She sighed. ‘Obviously not. Leave it with me. I’ll sort out something that will put her in a forgiving mood. Anything else?’
‘No. Yes. Have you ever kept a hamster?’
‘A hamster is not a substitute for a proper relationship,’ she replied sternly. ‘But I suppose it’s a marginal improvement on a computer. Why?’
‘I’m informed there’s one on the loose in my apartment.’
‘Then guard your cables. My kids had one and, I promise you, they can chew through anything.’
‘Oh, great. Better make that an hour while I make sure that at least my study is a hamster free zone.’
He might not be totally convinced about the hamster, but he wasn’t prepared to take any chances.
Miss Iphegenia Lautour might have a ridiculous propensity to blush for a grown woman. He wasn’t, however, about to overlook the possibility that she could have let loose a small furry friend in order to provide herself with a legitimate excuse for searching his apartment.
Why pretend when you could do it for real?
An answer immediately offered itself. Why would she complicate things with livestock?
A real hamster would, sooner or later, be found. Maybe too soon. An imaginary one, on the other hand, would provide her with endless opportunities to return.
Just how clever was she? The image might be pure innocence, but the eyes had glowed with something that had warned him not to take any chances.
He’d be well-advised, he decided, not to take anything for granted, but to assume the worst.
Ginny, too agitated to be able to concentrate, didn’t make it to the Underground station before she abandoned all thoughts of work. Instead, she bought a sandwich and a carton of coffee and retired to a small park where she tossed crumbs to the sparrows, putting off the evil moment when she’d have to call Sophie and let her know that she’d failed.
But eventually she ran out of sandwiches and time.
She dug out her cellphone, keyed in the number. Her call was answered with an alacrity that suggested Sophie had been sitting with the phone in her hand.
‘What happened?’ she demanded without preamble.
There was no soft answer. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie, but his desk was locked. I tried to find a key but when I went upstairs…’ She hesitated. Did she want to entertain Sophie with her encounter with Richard Mallory? Definitely not. ‘I was interrupted.’
‘Interrupted? Who by?’ she demanded.
‘It’s fine, Sophie. No problem.’
‘Oh.’ For a moment Ginny had the feeling that she was disappointed. ‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You can have another try tomorrow.’
No! ‘Look, why don’t you just own up? Surely Richard Mallory will understand? You can’t be the first person ever to delete a file.’
‘You don’t understand! I should have backed it up! I should have made copies! I should—’
‘Sophie! Pull yourself together!’ Heavens, she’d never been in this kind of state about a job before. She must be really desperate to keep it. ‘It has to be in the system somewhere. Can’t you flutter your eyelashes at one of those clever young men who work for him?’
‘No! This is a serious job and I want to keep it. I can’t admit to messing up. Besides, it’s not that easy. Go poking around in the memory of the mainframe and alarms get triggered off. The man is paranoid about security.’
‘Well, thank you for telling me that,’ Ginny said drily.
‘What? Oh…’ Then she laughed. ‘Oh, I see what you mean. You’re safe enough in his apartment. He wouldn’t expect anyone to break in there, would he? And it’s not as if it’s his precious secret development stuff you’re after.’
‘But would he believe that?’
‘He’s never going to know. I’ve told you, it’s his sister’s wedding anniversary and he’s playing happy families in Gloucestershire.’
Maybe that’s where he should have been, but he’d clearly been distracted by a pair of silk clad legs…
‘Listen to me, Ginny. It is absolutely vital that you get that disk. I have to prove to my father that I can keep a job.’
‘Why?’
There was a pause, then a sigh, then Sophie said, ‘He’s had enough of subsidising me, that’s why.’
Something she’d never have to worry about, Ginny thought. But what she’d never had, she’d never miss. ‘Hasn’t he threatened to cut you off without so much as a brass farthing at least half a dozen times since you left home? You know he doesn’t mean it.’
‘He does this time and it’s all my sister’s fault,’ Sophie added.
‘What’s Kate done to deserve the blame?’
‘She got married. To a wealthy barrister. A man who will, in the fullness of time, inherit a title and a country estate. It’s put ideas into Daddy’s head. He’s compared the cost of a wedding against the cost of supporting me and decided a wedding makes more economic sense in the long term. He’s actually got some chinless wonder lined up and panting to take me off his hands.’
‘Does he have a title and country estate to look forward to?’
‘Does it matter if he hasn’t got a chin? I have three choices, Ginny. Marry him. Marry someone else. Or support myself.’
‘Tough choice,’ Ginny said.
But Sophie didn’t get sarcasm. ‘The worst!’ she exclaimed. ‘All that’s saving me from a fate worse than death is this job…’
‘He might not be a chinless wonder, Sophie. He might be, well, jolly nice.’
‘Of course he’ll be “nice”. I don’t want “nice”, I want…’ She stopped abruptly. ‘I mean, really, Ginny, would you marry someone your father had picked out for you?’ Then, ‘Oh, damn! I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…’
Oh, rats! Now Sophie felt guilty.
‘It’s okay,’ Ginny said quickly. ‘Don’t fret.’
Despite the fact that they were total opposites in just about every respect, they’d bonded on their first day at school. It had been Sophie who, as the social queen of the class, had saved her from the fallout of being given the kind of name that no five-year-old should be saddled with.
As the solitary child of a feminist scholar—dismissive of playgroups and nursery schools—Ginny had little experience of mixing with children of her own age. She hadn’t realised that her name was odd until she ran into the cruel ridicule of the classroom.
Sophie had recognised a born outsider and, for some reason neither of them had ever quite fathomed, had taken her under her wing. Maybe it was the attraction of opposites. She hadn’t questioned it at the time, too grateful that since everyone wanted to be part of Sophie’s charmed circle the teasing had instantly stopped.
While her odd background, a lack of interest in the latest fashion, boys or parties and an inclination for solitary study had meant that she’d never actually been part of the group, she’d never been an outsider after that, at least not at school.
And once out in the big wide world she’d quickly learned to deal with the rest of the world in her own way.
‘Look, don’t worry. I’ll have another go, okay?’
‘Will you? Thank goodness Philly talked her in-laws into letting you “sit” their apartment for the summer. I just wish you could have had my spare room. Only Aunt Cora has saddled me with visitors for the summer.’
‘It is her apartment, Sophie.’ And, much as she loved Sophie, she was in London to work. She’d get a lot more of that done in the quiet of the McBrides’ apartment.
‘I suppose. And jolly lucky in the circumstances.’
That, Ginny thought, rather depended upon your point of view.
But it would be okay, she reassured herself. By now Mallory would have left for his delayed weekend in the country. All she had to do was get past Mrs Figgis and her duster. Which actually might not be that difficult…
‘Hector,’ she said, as she dropped her cellphone into her bag. ‘You’re back on.’
‘Richard?’
Richard Mallory looked up from the pad on which he’d been doodling a hamster. Wearing outsize spectacles. A slightly dishevelled hamster with a twig dangling over one ear and her cheeks aflame…
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